Phantomé
by Kelyi
Summary: The Phantom of the Opera returns to haunting the Opera Populaire after it is sold to a new owner. The man brings with him a woman with a dark secret... ErikOC
1. Default Chapter

Prolouge

It had been dark, lonely and desloute for months, the now darkened and burned Opera Populaire suffering greatly from ill repair, only added to the dark mood of the rakish figure sitting in the center of the stage, his dark hair sticking out in all directions, his shirt buttoned hapzhardily as he leaned on his left hand, running his finger through his hair with his right. No sounds, save the almost inaudiable sound of soft sobs rolling from the man's body, and the occasional soft, "Christine...". The broken Phantom of the Opera wallowed in his pity, while he would also storm in his anger, finding many more things broken day after day. Feeling his own heart dying slowly, along with the slow crumbling death his opera house had been reduced to. The silence was deafening, the ragged breathing getting stubbly on his nerves as he swapped back from sadness to anger, feeling the urge well up to punch something, Erik moved to jump off the stage when he stopped dead...somthing was in this opera house.

TBC


	2. The Identities

He could hear voices, both masculine as he pulled himself silently to his feet, moving quickly to hide in the rafters of the stage as he heard footsteps approaching. Half way to his distination, the lights came up in the house, causing Erik to mentally curse, barating his stupidity as he moved quickly, climbing one of the last intact latters that led to the catwalks, carefully listening below him to disconnected voices. Waiting for his intruders to come into view, Erik suddenly felt a longing for his lasso as he recognized the voice of Andre, the meddlesome, idiotic fool. Feeling his breathing quicken as Erik reached for something, anything to drop below him as he saw a shadow come into view, steadily moving towards his position as he got his hand on some burned debris. Preparing to drop them onto whomever was interupting the solitude of his mourning, Erik was momently blinded as the lights came on above the stage.

"There," Andre's whiney voice floated over the blinding light. "As you can see Monsouir, with the proper repairs, I believe this opera house could be reopened in about...three months time? As the new owner, you could make a fine profit."

Erik ground his teeth together, the shadow, now smaller was no longer moving towards him. The good 'Monsiour' had apparently not been warned about the Opera Ghost, or the fact that he was a guest in the opera house, no man was truely the owner, no one controlled **HIS** opera house. Seeing the shadow move again, Erik poised to cause a bit of mayhem, waited as he saw the figure finally come into view...a girl. A closer view proved she was a bit older then a girl, a young woman, dressed in a green that complimented her light blonde curls that fell over her shoulders, pulled up at the sides with two dark green hairpieces of flowers and feathers. She was silent, not offereing anything as Andre and the other man continued to converse about the repairs and such needed to the opera house, instead, she was silently looking around, taking everything in, her blue eyes finally looking up into the rafters, stopping for a moment, and Erik feared he was spotted, but she didn't scream at his unmasked face, or even look his direction long, before turning elsewhere, and then, when a soft, "Hayley." Interupted her lookings around, she turned quickly, and dissapeared from Erik's line of view, her golden locks quickly catching the light before vanishing.

Eric slid down slightly, trying to catch a glimpse of the 'Monsieur', the man who must have been her husband, watching as the man quickly came into his line of sight. A tall man, robust, with brown hair that he had expertly combed back, his apparence imaculate. Turning to look around the stage, but thankfully never looking up, the man waved behind him and Hayley quickly approached, as he pointed around, whispering softly to her, taking the top of her arm and gripping it rather hard. Hard enough, for a flash of pain to show across her delicate face, as he pulled her roughly closer, his whispering now turned harsh. Erik looked over towards Andre, to see that the man was quickly turning around, trying to find something else to focus on. Erik felt his hatred for the little coward increase even more, as hatred started to grow for the man who had the young woman so roughly held, her face now returning to a normal posture as he loosened up, pushing her slightly away from him, as he turned to follow Andre out again, the young woman standing on the stage, her back to them, unmoving.

"Now, Monsieur Andre, tell me about the history of the opera house..."

The man's voice got softer as Erik assumed the two were moving away from the stage, and out the doors that would lead back into the lobby, hence that had not passed under him to head backstage. Waiting to hear the door slam before he even took a breath, Erik moved silently up, towards the catwalks, as Hayley also finally let out a huge sigh, moving around to examine what was left on stage, then as something caught her eye backstage. Erik watched as she slowly approached a piece of the shattered chandelair, her thin hand reaching out to run over a piece of uncut glass and gold, when something under it caught her eye. She stooped gracefully and picked up the dusty object, wipping it lightly with her thin hand, she scrutinized it carefully.

Erik moved to try and see what had so caught her eye, when she moved slightly to her right, and Erik caught full what was in her small hand...his white mask, thrown carelessly by him earlier in the day in one of his many fits of anger. He watched as Hayley turned the mask over in her hand, running her fingers across the back, her brow furrowing as she turned it over once again, looking the front over, moving away from the backstage area to hold the mask up in the light. Erik quickly followed her on the catwalks, trying to keep up with her, sans he should need to remove the article from her possesion. Not watching where he was placing his footing, Erik felt himself step on a fallen metal rod, it rolling from the catwalk and landing behind Hayley, causing her to whip her head around, the mask falling from her fingers onto the stage floor, as she struggled to look up above the lights of the stage, her soft voice frightened as she whispered,

"Is that you... Monsieur Opera Ghost?"

Erik began to mentally curse, he knew that the news of his presence had spread beyond the whispers of the ballet rats of the Opera Populaire, to the streets of Paris and beyond. The night Christine had betrayed him and his presence had all but ruined the life he had carefully structured. Nearly cursing Christine, Erik felt his anger, and sorrow, well up again in the base of his throat, feeling it tighten, his muscles in his body following suite. Hearing the soft voice once again from below,

"If that is you, Monsieur...please, we mean you, and your opera house no harm. The Monsieur is Christobal, and he has heard much about you Monsieur Opera Ghost. I'm sorry if we distrubed you...but Monsieur Christobal means to take over management of the Opera Populaire. Your Monsieur Andre seems quick to be rid if it..."

Erik watched as Hayley looked around, struggling to see his form above her. Erik knew that he was no doubt making the young woman rather nervous, and he used that to his advantage, staying upon his perch, not bothering to announce his presence in anyway, knowing that all would soon know the presence...and vengence of the scorned Phantom of the Opera. Watching as Hayley, while still looking up, climbed carefully down from the stage, and into the decimated audience seating. Her thin hand resting on the door handle as she ment to go out, while her eyes still stared up.

Moving away from the catwalks as silently as he had come before his rather rude intruption of the metal rod, Erik left the now silent Hayley staring at the sky, as if searching for God himself amoung the clouds. Erik scoffed at that thought, pushing it away as he moved back into the intracite passage ways of the Opera Populaire, avoiding the worst of the burned ones leading back to his home under the opera house, the traps no longer in working order, as much the cause of the fire, as the bubbling idiots whom had stormed his home. Pressing switches along the way, Erik took an inventory of what would need to be repaired, and quickly, now that intruders would once again be scurrying through the Opera Populaire, and most likely the passages below. Letters of warning and demands forming in his mind as he reached the boat that would take him across the lake, his eyes glowing with a dark emotion that reveled the darkness of his underground home.

Hayley continued to scan the her surroundings as she carefully walked back from the darkness of the stage, towards the warmth and light of Andre's office. Shaking her thick blonde curls off her shoulder, Hayley came to the door, and, after a quick listen to the voices within, Hayley let herself in through the dark wooden door. Looking over at Christobal, and Monsieur Andre, the former manager holding a fine peice of paper with an elegant writting on it, showing through the back of the paper as he held it to the light, the intials O.G. unprotestingly visable. Monsieur Andre was delighting in telling the tale Hayley had heard in the gossips for months. Rolling her eyes softly, she moved to a plush chair, longing to poke at her new corset, not yet formed to her frame. Keeping silent, but allowing her thoughts to roam to the strange events that had taken place back on the stage, Hayley relized she had been treading in dangerous waters. She had heard of the cruelty and murder of the famed 'Opera Ghost', and the idea that she could have been killed smacked her soundly in the face. Hearing Christobal clear his throat brought Hayley from her chilling thoughts. Looking up as Christobal was signing the papers that would hand the role of management to him, Hayley noticed that Monsieur Andre couldn't have placed a more relieved look upon his face. Andre's eyes drifted to Hayley, and nodding politely at her, he returned his attentions to Christobal who was carefully replacing his pen into his coat pocket. Standing, and shaking Monsieur Andre's hand, Christobal smiled,

"Thank you Monsieur Andre. You are always welcome, as well as your partner. I hope the scrap metal bussiness is as lucritive as it was before."

Andre nodded his thanks, and quickly scurried out of the office, past Hayley and quickly strode away, as if the devil himself was on his heels. Christobal followed, stopping at Hayley to take her arm, leading her back out into the finally decorated, but badly damaged foyer.

"That was simple enough my dear. Come, let us return home. Tomorrow, the workers will be here to start the repairs and renovations. I..."

Christobal was cut short as a paper, finally folded and sealing floated down from the ceiling, onto the floor in front of the departing couple. Stooping to pick it up, Christobal turned it over, in his hand, greeted by a blood red skull on one side, and his name in the same fine script he had seen earlier printed on the front. Slidding his finger under the grinning skull, Christobal opened the letter, focusing quickly on the elegant script, reading aloud.

"_Monsieur Christobal,_

_Welcome to **MY** opera house. I believe proper introductions are due. You know very well whom I am, and here I will make my demands known. My salary, first is due. I don't believe Monsieur Andre explained that 40,000 francs a month suffices. Also, Box 5 is to be left open for my private use. You can see in front of you, what ignoring my demands can cause. I would not recommend that you take the same path as the previous managers._

_O.G_"


	3. The Introductions

Hayley felt her eyes shift again to the ceiling, this was now the second time the opera ghost had come. Watching out of the corner of her eye as Christobal continued to scan the letter, curses starting under his breath, Hayley watched as another piece of paper came floating down towards her. Reaching for it, capturing it and reading the finely written, "Hayley" on the front, she slipped it into her pocket for later reading, returning her attentions to Christobal as he screamed at the ceiling,

"I am not afriad of you! Do you hear me Opera Ghost? Monsieur Phantom of the Opera. I DON'T fear you! I fear NO ONE!"

Turning on his heel, Christobal stormed from the spot, leaving Hayley, whom was once again looking into the rafters, hoping for a glimpse of the renowned Phantom, to run after him. Her heels making soft clack-clackings on the tiled floor. Catching up with Christobal, Hayley allowed him to lead her out the door, and help into a black, common carriage, her sliding softly across to the other side as Christobal slid in next to her. Ordering the driver back to his residence as Hayley turned to look at the Opera Populaire behind her. Her blue eyes watching as the opera house shrank smaller and into the distance as they rode into the busy streets of Paris, back towards life and warmth, her blue eyes returned to the pocket she had slipped the small scrap of paper into, longing to be back in the privacy of her room so that she could read what a Phantom would have to say to her.

Feeling Christobal reach over and place his hand on the top of her velvet covered leg, Hayley supressed a sigh, turning to look at him instead as he ran his other hand over her blonde curls and the curve of her cheek, his dark leather gloves soft against her skin. As the carriage pulled to a stop, Christobal pulled his hands away, moving instead to climb out as the driver opened the door, Christobal instead offering his hand to help Hayley out, as she pulled the velvets of her skirt around so as not to trip. Taking Christobal's gloved hand in her own, as she carefully climbed down the carriage steps and once again back up the stone steps, waiting as Christobal unlocked, then opened the heavy wooden door to his home, allowing Hayley enterance.

Following behind her, Christobal shut the door quickly, then grabbed Hayley by the middle, pinning her to the wall, as he kissed her roughly, running his hand over her thigh, grabbing savagely at the delicate material, quickly pulling the dress up, running his hands over her bear skin as it was exposed, running his hands higher and higher, feeling Hayley squirm lightly at his touch. As he continued to pull at her clothing, the scrap of elegant paper flew from her pocket, causing Christobal to quickly pull himself off Hayley, stooping for the letter as Hayley struggled to replace her clothes in some form of a respectable manner, watching as Christobal ripped through the smiling skull, dropping it to the floor and crunching it under his heavy boot. His eyes roved the letter, then they took on a glint that frightened Hayley, Christobal looked up and flashed the young woman a very cold smile, placing the paper into his pocket.

-

Erik was settled at his desk, quickly working on a broken componant to one of the many mirrors that he would open throughout the opera house. A disgarded jacket was thrown over the back of a chair, his mask placed slightly esque across the bust head. Deciding earlier that he had his work cut out for him by the ill repair of his many opera house traps, he had started with the smaller mirror switches, one that now with a final clink, turned slightly in his palm, as a smile crossed the Phantom's unmasked face. It worked. Moving to place it amoung the others in a huge pile, Erik stretched out his cramped muscles, looking quickly up at the clock, only slightly surprised that he had worked through the entire night.

The clock moved to chime eight in the morning, and as he rolled his neck around in an attempt to roll out the tension from being hunched over, Erik tried to decide if he should get some sleep, or return topside to see what else needed to be finished when a series of loud clanges and voices came from above. The Phantom's dark eyes quickly shot up towards the ceiling above his cavern, feeling his mucsles all tighten quickly once again. Apparently Hayley had been correct when she said that the good Monsieur would be taking over the opera house. The repairs seemed to have been started right away.

Growling in his throat, Erik quickly moved to pull on his disgarded jacket and mask, swipping the disgarded switches into his arm as he quickly moved from his underground liar towards the boat that would take him into the tunnels to replace the fixed switches.

Throwing the switches into the floor of the boat, Erik quickly climbed in, humming a soft tune to himself as he paddled along, musing over in his mind what else would need to be fixed. Loosing himself in thought, Erik mentally cursed himself for loosing focus as the boat scrapped against the opposite shore. Climbing out and reaching into the bottom to pull the disgarded parts from the boat, Erik then quickly moved up the stairs and back into the main tunnels inside the opera house.

-

Hayley was bored. She had been sitting in the same chair for hours, her chin resting in her hand, contemplating the events of the preious night and morning. After spending a sleepless night tossing in her bed, praying that Christobal would not come that night to finish what he had started that afternoon, then climbing out as the sun rose and her maids came in with a warm bath and a sharp word that Christobal wanted her downstairs in thirty minutes, dressed to leave for the Opera Populaire.

After relaxing the bath for as long as she dare, Hayley quickly pulled herself from the water, moving quickly over to her waredrobe to find something suitable to wear, as her maids re-entered, draining the tub, and grabbing the comestics and hair necessities from the vanity table. Helping Hayley pull her corset tight, the dressing maid, Georgette, pulled a fabulous purple and black gown over Hayley's thick mass of blonde curls, lacing the back and sitting the young woman on the edge of the vanity bench so the other maids could work.

An endless confection of powder, pins and silk later, Hayley quickly descended the steps from her room into the front marble foyer of Christobal's elegant house. Christobal turned when he heard Hayley's heels lightly clicking upon the danity floor, her black fur capelet in hand as she drew near enough to turn and offer him her back so that he could dress her for the fall cold of the morning. After placing the capelet on Hayley's shoulders, Christobal rested his hands on her shoulders for a moment, turning her fully around to face him, never moving his hands, his dark eyes boring into her blue ones as he reach around and tied the capelet's lavender bow, offering his arm to the young woman as he lead her out the door. After stopping to lock the large ornate lock, Christobal then turned to where his carriage was sitting on the curb, the footman jumping to his post, opening the door for the couple.

Christobal stood on the side of the door, holding it open for Hayley as he took her free hand, helping her into the carriage, then climbing in himself, slidding next to her as she she arranged her gown to prevent from ruining it. Christobal bellowed for the driver to take them with all possible haste to the Opera Populaire, and then reclined back, one arm rest around Hayley's shoulders. Holding her with his vice gripe, reminding her of her predicament.

Struggling to get her mind off the man who sat next to her, Hayley couldn't help but watch her thoughts wander to the events of the day before, the mysterious notes, sounds and then...somewhere hiding, was a man for whom she should fear, and yet, she felt unafriad of the man whom had not shown himself.

Feeling the carriage pull to a stop, Hayley's eyes flew to the window, surprised to find herself outside the charred door of the opera house, and Christobal climbing out of the carriage, offering his hand to help Hayley climb from the carriage.


	4. Private Musings

Feeling her heeled boots once again touch the paved stones of the street, Hayley released Christobal's hand and took his offered arm, groaning lightly in her head. All this properness made her quite sick to her stomach. Sometimes she thought back to...before and wished, praying to return to that time. A line from a poem she couldn't name came to her mind, '_You ain't ruined, said she'. _

Ruined, that was what she was now. Ruined. Sighing as she entered the opera doors after Christobal, Hayley pushed the thoughts from her mind. She couldn't return home now, or ever, might as well attempt to...enjoy this. Releasing Christobal's arm so he could move over to talk to the workers, Hayley plopped herself down ungracefully into one of the new plush chairs that had been delivered before her arrival, testing the softness. After many hours, she felt her eyelids drooping.

Nothing interesting had happened, she had truely stopped watching the workers a few hours ago. She lacked the understanding for most of the working going on, and, with nothing to occupy her time, she had played mindless games with herself, sang songs in her head, and, when that fun had run dry, she had counted every single last bouble and sequin on her dress. Looking at the aging clock on the wall, she discovered to her dismay that it was not even noon. Pouting lightly, she thought back again to a comment her mother used to make to her, "Hayley! Don't make that face! What if it was to get stuck that way _Mon menue l'un_?".

Shaking her head, Hayley inwardly cursed. Why today was she thinking about her family? Her past life? She had left it all years ago! Still mentally baratting herself, she climbed from her chair, determined to find something that would cure her boredom, and return those thoughts to the back of her mind.

Carefully looking around to make sure that no one would notice her departure and inform Christobal that she had wandered off, Hayley then quickly and lightly pranced away aroud the back of a staircase, struggled to quiet her heels as they echoed down the long, badly damaged hallway she was now tresspassing upon. A light casting off something caused her jump, and take in a quick breath, her confidence beginning to wain away as the light flashed again, causing her to stop in her tracks, her breathing now much faster then before. Peering into the gloom, Hayley struggled to see what had frightened her so...and was surprised to see a woman staring back at her. A quick scream later, Hayley relized, she was staring at her own reflection in a large ornate mirror that dominated most of the wall. It was trimmed in what appeared to have once been gold, but now only the burnt brass undermakings remained, the fine metal having all evaporated in the heat of the fire. Moving closer, Hayley started to make rediculious faces at herself, laughing at her earlier fright and flightyness until her reflection shifted and another appeared.

Freezing Hayley stared at herself once again, there was nothing different this time. She could have sworn upon her soul that she had seen a man there, a stark white mask upon his face. Shaking her head and lightly rubbing at her eyes, Hayley decided it must have been her lack of sleep, and active imagination that had produced what she had seen. Or better, what she thought she had seen. The Phantom would likely be elsewhere, keeping an eye on the man repairing his opera house. Turning from the mirror, but giving it one last look over shoulder, hoping once again to see something instead of her blonde curls and purple dress, Hayley sighed and then, cocking her head lightly to one side, decided to take the first corrider on her right, heading down deep into the back passageways of the Opera House.

-

Watching the young woman dissapear from his line of vision, the Phantom moved back slightly from the mirror. One of his many that he would use to get around the Opera House. He was working on the switch when she had appeared before him. A soft scream had come from her lips, quickly quelmed with nervous laughter as Hayley had relized it was only her reflection in a mirror staring back at her...except the Phantom knew better. He watched her every move as she had proceeded to make faces at her reflection, the lack of maturity and ladylike qualities shocked the Phantom.

Christobal was a man of high ranking status, or so the Phantom had read. Granted, he was no relation to the Royalty, having come from England to France, but that made him none the less powerful and aristocratic. Watching what he assumed to be this man's young wife shocked Erik. Young ladies of status did not behave this way. Her soft musical laughter continuing until the Phantom has moved closer to the mirror, intending to frighten her back a bit, his attention noting that the mirror wasn't fully closed. Hayley's naturally inquisitive nature would prove a problem, he relized. This slip of a woman would keep him on his toes. Giving the switch one final knock, Erik lightly pressed the button as the mirror slid open silently. Climbing through, the Phantom lightly straitened his cloak, waiting until the mirror closed behind him to turn around and check his reflection. Satisfied everything was in order, he turned once again from the mirror, setting his course along the corrider Hayley had headed down, a soft smile gracing the handsome side of his face. She was too prone to mischieve to be left alone. Far too curious indeed.

-


End file.
